Hello, friends. I'm JD, and I'm completely new to the Brokeback Mountain community. So please, let me know what you think.

I warn you that this story jumps around a lot in terms of the timeline, so bear with me.

Anyhoo, I hope you enjoy my first attempt at BB fanfic.

~JD

It all started with a hat.

Jack could still remember the sound of approaching hoof beats and the click of Lureen's tongue. One piece of red suede had changed his life forever.

At the time, he didn't have the foggiest notion of what was going to come of this relationship. He realized now that rapid-fire sex in the backseat wasn't the best foundation for a marriage.

But nonetheless, here he stood. An ancient pipe organ began to churn out those familiar notes, and he turned around to face the aisle.

As Jack Twist watched his blushing bride glide towards him, he didn't know how many times her dark chestnut hair was going to be chemically altered over the next twenty years.

As Lureen Newsome pecked her father's cheek and let go of his arm, she had no idea just how much conflict a Thanksgiving football game could cause.

And as the soon-to-be-newlyweds stared into one another's eyes, they couldn't even fathom the possibility that their marriage was going to end with the swing of a tire-iron.

All they knew was that it had started with a hat.

"So, I just wanted to tell y'all that we decided we'd be writin' our own vows," Lureen informed her parents, a sparkling smile plastered across her face.

The blue-eyed man perched beside her snapped out of his trance. He must have had his head in the clouds when they had coordinated this particular aspect of the wedding plans. Cussing under his breath, Jack made a mental note to stop daydreaming so often. He felt the subtle nudge of an elbow and cleared his throat. "Yessir, we thought it'd be more romantic and all," he explained. No one can bullshit like a Twist man, he thought, grinning a bittersweet smile.

A dreamy-eyed glaze came over Mrs. Newsome, while L.D.'s silver eyebrows furrowed together. "You sure that's a good idea, sweetheart?" he queried, though his tone showed that he surely thought the answer was no.

Unfazed, Lureen placed a French-manicured hand on Jack's thigh. "Yes, Daddy, as a matter of fact, I am. Me and Jack both think it'll be wonderful."

A more insightful man would have realized that the decision had already been made. But L.D. had been raised in a strictly Christian environment. He wasn't going down without a fight. "Honey, you're gonna use them church vows. Surely a marriage don't count with the Lord if you go spoutin' off hogwash. It just ain't the way things are done here." Blood rising to his face, L.D. leaned forward in his chair, his accusing eyes resting on the groom in question.

At that moment, Lureen's mother put a hand on her husband's shoulder. "Now, don't you think our Lureen should be able to have whatever her heart desires on her weddin' day?" She grinned convincingly at him. "That's what my daddy always said to me. Even though we didn't have money 'till I met you. He wanted me to be happy on my own special day. Don't you want that for your daughter?"

Sighing heavily, L.D. snatched his napkin off the table and shook it vigorously. It was three against one, and time to throw in the towel. "Well, I s'pose if you kids really wanna," he grumbled, smoothing a hand over his thinning hair.

Lureen grinned and stood up abruptly, making her way around the dining room table to peck her father's cheek. "Thank you, Daddy. It really is goin' to be a beautiful ceremony."

Jack frowned. The most touching thing he had ever composed was probably the inscription on a Popsicle-stick magnet his mother still kept on her wintergreen refrigerator: "I love my mama becuz she makes me makarony and cheez."

Third-grade art projects constructed on the Friday before Mother's Day, he concluded, often dwindled in quality and accurate spelling.

Staring up at the stucco ceiling tiles, Jack lay alone on his flannel bedspread. He knew he should have been working on his vows. But as images of sheep and pup tents and baked beans drifted across his mind's eye, Jack Twist could hardly think of Lureen.

A sharp ring pierced the air, and Jack sprung up off his bed. He hustled over to the tiny kitchenette of his apartment and grabbed the phone off its cradle, squeezing it between his right shoulder and his ear. "Hullo?"

"Howdy, sweetness." Lureen's nasal tone resonated uncomfortably.

"Well, hey there, little lady. What can I do for 'ya?"

"Oh, nothin'. I just thought I'd let you know... that I found somethin'."

Jack ran a hand through his hair and let out an exaggerated sigh. "Oh boy. Somethin' else wander outta that closet of yours?" He was beginning to wonder if the seemingly small storage space had a trap door to another closet full of yearbooks and prom gowns.

"Yessiree. Wanna know what it is?"

"Shoot."

"I found my old ridin' get-up." Lureen's smile was audible.

Jack grinned and closed his eyes. "Even the hat?"

"Even the hat."

The two sat in comfortable silence for a moment as Jack switched the receiver to his other shoulder. "So, you comin' over tonight, missy?"

"I think me and Marie might be goin' out tonight. It's Ladies' Night at the bar around the corner, you know the one?"

"Yeah. Well, I hope you gals have fun."

"Hey, Jackie. You been workin' on your vows?"

Jack didn't hesitate. "All mornin', sweetheart."

For a moment, Lureen didn't respond, and Jack thought she had him figured out. Damn women and their mystical ways, he thought. But then he heard a sharp intake of breath.

"I guess I'll be seein' you tomorrow, then."

"I certainly hope so, ma'am." He waited for the click and hung up the phone, sighing heavily as he strode back into his bedroom. Jack sat down on the foot of his bed and ran a hand through his ebony hair. I can do this, he thought. Me and Lureen... we're gonna be married. "Husband and wife," he whispered to himself. "Me and Lureen."

Shaking his head vigorously, Jack felt the hot tears spring to his eyes. He reached down into the pile at his feet, digging through jeans and boxers and numerous mismatched socks. Finally, he tenderly extracted the brown paper sack and pulled it close to his chest.

"Me and Lureen," Jack argued. But his fingers felt differently as they unfurled the top of the bag, reaching inside to grab at the cotton fabric. He pulled out the white checked button-down shirt and buried his nose in it. Jack tried to remember what those sleeves felt like around his waist.

His lips moved rebelliously.

"Me and Ennis."

Days passed after the wedding of Jack Twist and Lureen Newsome. Being traditional folk by nature, they had waited until this time to move in together to humor Lureen's parents. Jack's parents hadn't had any real input in these nuptials; his mother was simply happy her boy had found someone that made him happy. His father was more than pleased that Jack was finally leaving Lightning Flats.

So here they were, the smiling newlyweds, standing entwined in the master bedroom. Jack had only brought three boxes, which were stacked neatly against the wall.

"Whatcha thinkin', Jackie?" Lureen inquired, giving his waist a gentle squeeze.

Jack responded without looking at her. "Hungry," he grunted, smiling over at her.

Lureen raised an eyebrow. "Here I thought you were gonna say somethin' romantic. Turns out the way to a man's heart really is through their stomach."

Jack nodded heartily.

"Well, I haven't been shoppin' in a few days." Lureen pondered the contents of her kitchen silently, tapping a finger on her chin. "How 'bout frank and beans?"

Only hesitating for a moment, Jack let go of her waist. "Perfect."

Lureen sighed over-dramatically and scampered toward the doorway. "Right away, sir," she chirruped mockingly.

Shaking his head, Jack let out a chuckle and strolled over to his boxes. One contained clothes and toiletries, another held tools and knives and the like, and he had thrown a few sentimental knick-knacks into the third. Yanking the lid off the uppermost box, Jack was ready to transport his clothes into the wardrobe when his eyes strayed.

Against the same wall was a white wicker chair, piled high with Lureen's clothing. A tiny swatch of red suede peeked out from beneath a powder pink blouse.

Jack tugged the cowboy hat out from it's hiding place and rubbed the rim between his fingers. He chuckled at first, smiling to himself. But with each exhaled breath, the lump in his throat swelled just a little bit larger.

Because this wasn't really the hat that started it all.

A tan, weathered, water-stained piece of suede was really the hat that started it all. It was encircled by a length of brown leather, blood-spattered in one place from a disastrous bear encounter. And Jack was guessing that it was currently perched on the tousled head of Ennis del Mar.

The hat Jack held in his hands, in actuality, had ended it all.

The wedding had gone beautifully in the eyes of its attendants. The church was illuminated by colored light pouring through the stained-glass windows. Clumsy handfuls of white rose petals were strewn across the aisle by Lureen's curly-headed cherub of a niece.

But they all agreed that the most memorable event had been the wedding vows.

Lureen had clasped her groom's hands as she grew misty-eyed, professing her love in a honey-coated voice. She spoke of trust and life-long commitment as she gazed into those ocean-blue eyes.

And as for Jack, he passed with flying colors. Despite the fact that his script was scrawled on a bar napkin from the bachelor party the night before, he was able to present his bride with eloquent sentiments.

Jack was the only one with any idea of what was going on inside his mind as he blinked back hot tears. He thought of arms draped around his waist, breath against his neck. He thought of shared meals and shared laughs and shared secrets. He thought about hats. He thought about love.

But as for the particular person on his mind, no one could have fathomed the possibility that it was anyone other than Lureen Newsome.

Jack smiled, lifted the veil of his lovely bride, and fulfilled the minister's suggestion with a tender kiss. And as he closed his eyes, he could almost place himself back on Brokeback Mountain, beside a crackling fire, the taste of cheap whiskey on his tongue.

But as he pulled away, a svelte brunette reappeared before him.

"I love you," Lureen whispered over the applause, glaring up at him in adoration.

Jack did not want to be here. He had never wanted to be surrounded by pastel hats and monogrammed hankies on his wedding day. He didn't want an extravagant event in a closed-minded church, speaking empty promises to a god he didn't believe in.

What Jack Twist truly desired was nothing formal. Whispered sentiments in a pup-tent would have suited him just fine.

And yet, here he was.

So Jack echoed Lureen's proclamation, the hollowness of his voice masked by the post-kiss commotion.

And he concentrated as intensely as he possibly could on her chocolate-brown eyes.

So, what did you think? Any feedback is welcome. That little green button down there wasn't put there for decoration!

~JD